American Detective: Starting as a Rookie Cop in an American TV Show

Chapter 1362 Jack's Question

"Not really." Jack thought, stroking the stubble on his chin from staying up late.

Being a resident doctor is a very hard job in itself. Whether it is staying up late for a long time or relying on drugs to boost spirits, it can be seen from the appearance.

If Dr. Tillman has been living this kind of double life, for Jack, no matter how gifted and beautiful a beauty is, the haggard feeling from the inside out cannot be concealed by just light makeup.

"Unless she has the opportunity to find time to secretly rest during the day, or she has only recently started this kind of life, most people can't sustain this kind of life for long."

Jack himself is an extraordinary person. He didn't sleep a wink last night and is still full of energy now. On the other hand, if Reese hadn't had two cups of black coffee in the morning, he would be feeling the most uncomfortable right now.

Of course, as long as you can get through it, the human body will automatically switch to "emergency state", which is the so-called staying up late. If you stay up too late, you will not feel sleepy anymore, but that will be very harmful to your body.

Reese is an elite agent who is used to this kind of irregular life. Although he feels a little uncomfortable at the moment, his mind is still clear. "Speaking of Wall Street elites, how is the investigation of that paranoid criminal going?"

Finch tapped the keyboard a few more times, bringing up several windows on the screen. "His full name is Andrew William Benton. He works for Hudson Liberty Financial Company and is an investment banker."

"Do you have a criminal record?" As a policeman, this is the issue that Jack cares most about.

"In theory, no. There are a series of accusations, including harassment, stalking and inappropriate behavior, but he has never been formally prosecuted." In front of Jack, an FBI agent, Finch pulled up multiple criminal database interfaces including those of the NYPD and the courts.

"It fits the profile of a sexual offender." Jack is a policeman, not a lawyer or a judge, and he rarely plays the presumption of innocence game unless the case is too complicated and requires caution.

Reese still had a deadpan expression, but Jack's certainty in his judgment still made him curl his lips slightly, "I think he has chosen Tillman as his next prey."

Jack nodded noncommittally, "So what are you going to do next?"

"Go to his house." Reese answered as a matter of course.

As a federal policeman, Jack naturally could not break the law when it came to breaking into a house, so he chose to keep watch for Reese downstairs.

"There's a security system at the door of his apartment, Finch, I need your help with it." Reese's voice came through the headset.

A few minutes later, Finch hummed, "Feel free to use your lock-picking skills, Mr. Reese. The alarm is offline."

Less than 20 seconds after he finished speaking, Reese's reply came through the headset, "I'm coming in."

"You two are a match made in heaven." Jack sat on the sofa in the lobby on the first floor of the apartment, pretending to play with his phone.

Although many people still have the habit of reading newspapers these days, they are basically the elderly.

I have to say that some of his colleagues are sometimes too amateurish. When they were tracking and monitoring, they wore white shirts and black suits, holding a newspaper, and it was almost as if the words "I am FBI" were written on their faces.

"Is there anything unusual?" asked Finch, who also couldn't see the picture.

"Does someone like to mark his territory?" Reese said calmly, "His initials are embroidered on the sofa cushion."

"Typical narcissistic personality." Jack said succinctly. "There is no coffee machine." Reese continued.

"There may be surprises in the kitchen, bathroom, and between sofas." Jack snorted coldly. If a Wall Street elite doesn't drink coffee, then there must be something "powerful" about it.

"A few packets of cocaine were found in the spice jars." Reese said someone had guessed it.

The entire illegal intrusion took less than ten minutes. Reese went downstairs and showed Jack the USB drive in his hand. "His personal computer has been copied. We will soon know what he has done."

Just like those simple business wars, the easiest way to hack into a computer is to directly plug a USB flash drive with the Trojan program copied in advance into its USB port.

Jack took the USB drive and threw his car keys to Reese. "Go back and have some sleep first. Leave today's work to me."
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There was actually nothing to do during the day. Finch just had to confirm through the hospital surveillance that Dr. Tillman had not left during the day.

Most of the work was concentrated on organizing the information copied by Reese. Jack found photos of Benton with nearly a hundred women among thousands of photos.

Excluding scenes with huge age disparities and some family gatherings, there are still about a hundred young women who have taken photos with Benton in relatively intimate poses, with the backgrounds basically being bars, nightclubs and parties.

Finch wrote a small program to link the browser records with the photos of these women one by one. "Agent Tawalla, what do you think of this?"

"Target and loot." Jack looked as if he had eaten a fly.

Benton was cautious enough not to put any obscene photos on his computer, but some clues could still be found from his browser history.

After meeting a target woman, he would search for relevant information about her on the Internet in advance.

Even though Americans are always shouting about personal privacy, in fact most ordinary people have no sense of confidentiality about their own privacy.

You can easily open the box by just browsing their social media profiles, such as Facebook and the now very popular "SBL" homepage.

Although Benton does not have the hacking skills of Finch, he can still easily do it by googling the person's name, matching the social account, and then spending a little money to buy the other party's address.

Jack even discovered that he had the habit of scouting the locations in advance. Some seemingly meaningless photos of buildings were shown to be near the residences of several of the women after Finch compared them.

But there was a problem. Jack looked at Finch, who was putting eye drops in his eyes. "Megan Tillman doesn't look like she's in there."

Finch put his glasses back on and nodded. "Indeed, there is no search history, nor any information about where to go. Whether it's near Tillman's apartment or the hospital, there doesn't seem to be any connection."

"So how did the 'machine' determine that Dr. Tillman was a risk?" Jack asked solemnly.

"I don't know." Finch answered decisively, "It has a set of self-judgment methods, which evolved through learning from the underlying logic I wrote.

It can predict bad things from happening, not through magic or prophecy, but through rigorous logical deduction.”

"In other words, even you, the creator, can't guess what it's thinking. Am I right?" Jack said meaningfully.

(End of this chapter)